Silence
by mika zero-zero twenty-one
Summary: Lyra is quiet. It is known. (MC/?, threesome.)


Lyra is quiet. It is known.

She fulfills requests, smiling, but scurries away after being given her reward. She's perfectly friendly, but not the social creature both mayors made her out to be. No, Lyra is anything but – she avoids festivals, celebrates her birthday alone, and spends her days with only her fields as company. Jessica had been concerned, but Ash has since assured her that there's nothing wrong with the new farmer.

In fact, Ash knows that she's protecting him with her silence.

Lyra has lived on the mountain for over a year now, having spent her first three seasons in Konohana, and her winter in Bluebell. It wasn't infrequent in those first seasons to see the farmer running through town, offering the rival villagers waves and nods as she passed. There had been talk, of course, about how Konohana was using her to reunite the two towns, but all of this blew over when her cart came rumbling down the mountain that fated morning. And it was then that Ash discovered the farce of her silence.

"Hey, rancher." It was early one morning in late fall that she came, hair tucked under a yellow kerchief, dirt smeared across her cheeks and apron. "How's it going?"

He remembered being stunned – no one in Bluebell had ever been engaged by her in conversation.

"I'm doing well. Hey, you're Lyra – the girl who lived in Konohana, who's so good at cooking! What made you decide to move here?" Ash had asked, putting down his brush. She laughed, low and musically.

"I'm excited about new prospects here. Say – how about you come over for dinner one night?" She'd asked, picking up the brush. "I promise, no poison will be involved. Just you, me, and a good bottle of wine. Or is that…unsatisfactory?"

Ash can recall nothing unsatisfactory about the evening, not even if you asked him if the books were dusted. He'll tell you that he remembers going home full of good food and better conversation; he remembers slowly being pressed against the bed, the slow removal of clothes, and slowly entering her. He can almost feel her press around him, and the gradual increase in tempo as the hours grew smaller.

Standing in his barn, Ash brushes Snow, sighing in memory. Lyra is quiet. Lyra is anything but – he could assure you, but he, too, has been ushered into her strange pantheon of silence. She had promised him that she enjoyed their evening, and was looking for something serious, but didn't know quite what it was yet.

* * *

It is known – the farmer is quiet.

Two men in Konohana can attest to knowing a place that Lyra is not quiet. Both men have heard her speak, heard so much more; both men have been together as she's broken her silence in their presence. It is known to them that Lyra is not quiet, and they will never remember her as not being quiet.

Hiro remembers the way Lyra smiled under her umbrella at him, asking him over for dinner one night; he remembers stammering to Dr. Ayame that he was going to Kana's, and her fond teasing. He remembers Lyra's soft laughter, her softer hands, and the soft moans she gave in her soft sheets. He can still feel the warmth of those hands as they held desperately onto his shoulders; when he lays down at night, he can feel the weight of not only her request of silence, but of her soft breasts against his chest.

Hiro gasps a bit at the memory of their first dinner, blushing – Dr. Ayame laughs at him from across the room.

Kana was invited to the second dinner – what she lacked in speech, she made up for in listening, Yun said – and so was Hiro. The wine was rich and full-flavored, and when she'd beckoned, neither man could resist her. Both men were apprehensive, and Lyra had apologized for her rush to conclusion that they'd be comfortable – she'd heard they had been best friends since the dawn of time, and had thought that they would be glad to share in the experience of breaking, and later maintaining, silence.

"Ah, Kana…I am not objected…" Hiro had murmured, blushing phosphorescent red. It was fall, and he was positive that it had nothing to do with the fire blazing in Lyra's hearth. Kana had laughed, linking his arm with his best friend's.

"Man, I've been with you through everything, and if you think it's okay, then I do, too." Kana pulled Hiro into a tight embrace, then pulled Lyra in, knowingly pulling her silence over himself, as well. But there was to be no silence that night, not as Lyra was the bridge between two men, rocking into her in unison; Kana thinks back to the night of that warm mouth around him, how those lips had curled into a smile, and how Hiro standing behind her had only served to complete the night.

Kana remembers each callous on those small hands and each word she'd uttered; she had branded him as a member of her guild that night, baptized him with a sloppy kiss to the forehead before she'd curled up to sleep between the two men. He remembers looking at Hiro the next morning unflinchingly as Lyra made breakfast, then offered herself on the table instead; he remembers her saying that she's going to Bluebell for the winter to think things through, and how they both tried to convince her otherwise.

They are not objected to Lyra's quietude. It's spring now, and the young farmer has returned from over the mountain.

* * *

Cam appreciated the farmer for her silence during her visits from the farming town, but after the night of anything but that he shared with her, he appreciates it even more.

"You've lived here for so long," Lyra had said, fingers dancing over rose petals. "And you're so talented. I'm sure you could make a fortune no matter where you decided to go in life, Cam."

"Here is where I belong. As a kid, I never thought I'd settle down in one spot, but coming to Bluebell…changed my mind. Maybe it'll change yours, as well." He had pulled her closer and kissed her behind the cover of their two umbrellas; hers of the Eastern style, his of the west. She laughed in that beautiful way of hers, the same laugh she had rewarded him with as he had tweaked those hard nipples, the same laugh as when she heard his groans as she reciprocated.

Cam plans to visit her farm over the mountain, but he hasn't made up his mind as to when. Ash stops by every now and then, and Ash has told him of similar plans. They both like the farmer in their own way, and they agree that her silence is not off-putting. Cam knows that Ash will not know the weight behind his words.

He doesn't know that Ash knows all too well.

* * *

Dirk knows the farmer is not quiet, and is not afraid of her. He's offered to help her water her massive fields, but every time, she's politely declined, tucking a lock of brown hair behind her ear. She invites him, instead, to help her tend to other matters, and he's been only more than happy to oblige.

When he'd moved in during Summer, the sticky heat of the day had been unbearable, but at night, it was worse – it was as though the humidity was a cruel jape of the heat, letting them all know that it was inescapable. It was ill-advised to search for any kind of heat then, but the heat had sought him out, and before he'd known it, he was deep inside Lyra.

She'd talk to him about getting through the tunnel and how much easier it would make his job; he can't help but think of her as a beautiful, caring individual. In that summer heat he'd been mad over her, boiling with over with sex and spilling it all over her welcoming body in those nights. She blew over him like a typhoon; when a real typhoon had struck the town, she'd offered him shelter. Dirk thinks of those sticky hours, of Lyra begging for release as he pushed into her from behind, rubbing that bundle of nerves just right.

Dirk knows that Lyra is keeping him safe with her silence. She's so gorgeous, and so courteous. Small towns are breeding grounds for rumors, he knows too well, and Lyra is a master at avoiding them.

* * *

"Tell me, Mikhail, what brings you back?"

"You do, my dear."

"I'm not yours, Mikhail. What really makes you come back to the mountain, year after year?"

"The same thing that has kept you here for over a year now, silly Lyra – it's a sense of belonging."

"Mmmm."

It had been early Spring when Mikhail first visited the farm on an invitational basis; he found that he never wanted to leave. He thinks of the conversation he'd had with Lyra before she'd mounted him, but it quickly fades as he recalls the rocking of her body against his. He swears that he can feel her breath against his ear when he plays, sometimes, and eagerly awaits his next dinner invitation.

As per her request, he keeps the affair quiet – it's no good if everyone knows. How could they all appreciate Lyra's demands, her moans of pleasure? Mikhail knows that her silence has only bred fondness within him, and if any other man should be so lucky as to experience that same silence, he would truly be a blessed man.

* * *

"Harder, harder, we're so close, ohhhhhhhhh…"

Again, three bodies bridge; Georgia's face is deep between Lyra's legs, and Lyra's tongue works Laney apart.

It's spring, and she's determined to keep quiet.

* * *

_Gosh, all this came from knowing you could go on dates with anyone, at almost any given time! My character is married to Hiro in-game, but since marriage, has been on many dates with the many men of the two towns. I thought about how said main character has the appeal of being single, and why not have enormous sexual prowess and an insatiable sexual appetite?_

_Hope you enjoyed._


End file.
